


Curiosity

by jailedbard (twoheadedenby)



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of? it's like. body vore. sort of. moon presence anatomy is wild), Nonbinary Character, Other, Soft Vore, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedenby/pseuds/jailedbard
Summary: The Hunter has scarcely quelled one threat before another entirely new challenge presents itself. Something of an alternate, porny take on the Honoring Wishes ending.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thalassashells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassashells/gifts).



The Hunter shivers. They are shaking all over, in fact; so tense that they can scarcely feel the handle of their rapier, despite the vicelike grip in which they hold it. A fierce chill has swept over the dream, violating the familiar sterile airlessness the Hunter had come to know so well. So too has the pale, warmthless light given way to full-throated night, revealing only the blood moon hanging threateningly close in the sky and reflecting light on the field of lilies in which the Hunter stands. Fresh blood glistens on the petals.

The Hunter’s eyes are fixed on that moon, unwavering and unblinking. Something buried deep in their chest pulls them towards it, so strong that they feel as though their feet must be lifting off the ground. If something doesn’t happen to break this stalemate, they might spend the rest of their eternity transfixed.

Eventually, it does break.

The hunter is sure, as intent as they are on watching the sky, that there is no way they could have missed her appearance. Yet above them she now floats, obstructing their view of the moon that had been so clear in the previous instant. Could it be that she had been there all along? It would have seemed preposterous not so long ago, but the Hunter had learned much of the human eye’s ability to not perceive that which it could not comprehend.

This is not the only contradiction present in the scene before their eyes. She hovers over them, suspended in the sky on wings too small and frail to possibly support her impressive, sinuous form. She is still, save for the directionless waving of the tendrils that sprout from her back. The Hunter tries to discern patterns in the movement and finds only that they longer they try to focus the less they are able to take in.

The Hunter knows that they are being watched. The feeling in their gut telling them so is so strong as to entirely overwhelm the evidence of their vision that, as she moves inexorably closer, she has no eyes in her head. If, indeed, that is her head.

She has arms, and hands. The Hunter can be sure of this as she extends towards them, and they back away cautiously from her grasp. Each step feels as if their boots are filling with lead. They cannot break away from the pull on them, as sure and unwavering as gravity. Her hands close around their back, and their stomach begins to tie itself in knots.

The Moon Presence cuts a fearsome sight this close. Her roving tendrils tower over the Hunter now, and they can see that her stomach lies open, her ribs unstuck and facing outwards. Past the outward glint of flesh and bone, they can discern nothing about what may lie within.

Her grip tightens, and the Hunter begins to struggle as she threatens to lift them clean off the ground. Then, something curious happens: she tilts her head, and she stops. The Hunter still struggles to move, but the Moon Presence no longer continues to reel them in. Instead, she lowers her head to the level of the Hunter’s, and holds it less than an inch away.

She is urging the Hunter to be calm. They cannot articulate how they know this, but the tangle of incomprehensible emotion washing over them has begun to cohere into something more singular with this level of proximity. They also cannot say why they know it is a request, and not a command. Knowing that it is in their power to refuse is, ironically, the key to allowing them to start to relax. With increasingly greater clarity, they come to understand that the force pushing them towards the Moon Presence comes from them, not from her.

They know, all at once, that this is what they had been searching for from the moment they came to Yharnam. Every stage of their journey unfurls before them in their mind’s eye, and the indescribable echoes coming from the Moon Presence tell them that she has been with them through each step. The Hunter, unready and unable to perceive her, could not have known of her wishes for their success, as they now felt her exultation that they might finally meet.

The Moon Presence withdraws, and the Hunter finds themselves hungering to know more of her mind. The sudden return to the more ambiguous emotional connect between them is jarring. More jarring yet is when her tail snakes around, as long as the rest of her body, and caresses the Hunter’s face. It is cold and smooth to the touch, leaving a tingle where it brushes their temple. The tip curls around the edge of the Hunter’s mask, gently tugging it down to expose their face. Exposed to the chilly air, they are now acutely aware of how hot their cheeks and nose had been burning under the mask.

The tail slides away, tracing a trail on their skin in the process. The Moon Presence lowers her head once more, and the Hunter can feel the signals she is sending more vividly than ever. Something hums between them. This time, the emotions emanating from her are accompanied by an image, etched starkly into the Hunter’s mind. A Caryll rune.

_ Communion _ .

In isolation, the Hunter might not have understood the rune’s significance, but it did not arrive in isolation. The Moon Presence desired them, and they could feel a yearning to  _ know  _ them, so strong that for a moment they feel as if they have tendrils of their own that are burning to explore. All they have is hands, but they do not hesitate to wrap them around the Moon Presence’s neck, standing on their toes to place a kiss on the side of her head.

The contact sends a jolt into the Hunter’s head; a sharp, overwhelming burst of sensory information. The Moon Presence makes a sound, a kind of dry clicking that seems to emanate from somewhere deep within her.

She lowers the Hunter gently to the ground, and the Hunter does not hesitate in unfastening their jacket, boots, and pants, leaving them naked under the moonlight, splayed against a backdrop of discarded clothing and flowers. One of the Moon Presence’s tendrils nudges their hat off their head, almost curious in its motions. She runs the tip through the Hunter’s short, cropped hair, and their scalp tingles.

The moonlight fades from their skin as she lowers herself over them, her open stomach filling the Hunter’s field of vision in a way that feels inviting now, rather than the foreboding they felt earlier. They reach out to grasp her tendrils, which coil around their arms in return. More tendrils curl around them, supporting their bare back as they are lifted from the ground. Their skin screams cold fire, so sensitive to the touch of the Moon Presence that her tendrils send shocks through their body every time they shift against her.

The Hunter is plunged into the darkness of the Moon Presence’s body, and where they expect to see only darkness they are greeted instead by sights they can scarcely name. It feels as though the cosmos itself is laid out before them, rendered in vast and indescribable bursts of sensation. It would be terrifying, were they not tethered to their physical presence by the Moon Presence’s embrace. It is warm here in her core, and the Hunter feels sheltered and secure.

The warmth prevents their body going numb, and now that they are secured inside of her body, the Moon Presence’s tendrils have ceased to support the Hunter and started to probe, tracing the outline of their body and driving towards the places they seemed to sense they were needed.

The Hunter feels one of the appendages slide between their legs, running over their entrance and up toward their stomach, stopping and curling back down in response to the Hunter’s legs kicking when it brushes their clitoris. They can feel gasps leaving their throat, although they cannot hear them. Two of the tendrils curl under their armpits and form a secure grip around the Hunter’s shoulders. Two more make their way around their inner thighs, gently pulling their legs apart and squeezing in time with their muscles clamping.

Finally, one more snakes down the Hunter’s back, drawing an electric current down their spine. It joins the other one exploring their nether region, curling inquisitively towards their folds. The Hunter nods, although they are sure the Moon Presence understands without it. The Moon Presence plunges inside them, and though she stops before the tendril widens enough to be painful, the Hunter feels filled, and the visions dancing across their eyes start to stutter and swim. They cry out silently but in full force.

They can feel the Moon Presence pulsing all around them, drawing them in closer and tighter. Ripples pass through the muscle surrounding them, timed increasingly closely to the Hunter’s own convulsions around the tendril penetrating them. The Moon Presence’s touch still roves, caressing their neck and breasts with a light touch, in stark contrast to the more forceful way she pressed inside them. The Hunter’s back arches away from the tendrils playing at their spine, their body already too alive with sensation to accept any more as they climax, twitching and panting hard enough that the Moon Presence tightens her grip around their limbs to hold them steady as she continues to work them through completion. The stars in the Hunter’s eyes flash blindingly bright, and they try to close them only to find they already are. It becomes too much to take in, and they are grateful for the respite when their mind goes blank and their vision cuts out entirely.

Later, they struggle to recall what happened next. They were all but unconscious, but the Moon Presence was not, and it is through her that they recall being lowered to the ground, breathing heavily but peacefully, exhausted but content. Most fondly, they share in the memory of the Moon Presence’s hand lifting their coat, wrapping it around them as a makeshift blanket with the utmost delicacy – she had been so afraid to tear it! – to keep the Hunter warm.

The Moon Presence had remained behind to watch, for a time, observing the Hunter doing something she had not seen throughout that long, long night they had spent together. They had slept restfully, and, they had been surprised to realise upon waking, without dreaming.


End file.
